Hikisaka
by DarkLightPro
Summary: An exploration into the enigma of Kurama. His past, his present, his future. How else do you describe my sadism?
1. The End

Hikisaka

The scent of blood burned in his nostrils as he ran through the dense forest. Human blood. Vines seemed to leap out and whip at any exposed skin that came near their path and still he ran. The heat was almost unbearable, humid, sticky…unbearable. Sweat dribbled from his pores, merging with the red staining his skin.

How long had he been running? Too long. Since the sun was high and there had been no letting up. He was being chased, his life would end if his pursuers had anything to say about it. Demon hunters.

He slipped underfoot, tumbling down and falling, rolling out onto the grassy plains below. His head snapped back as he recovered himself and listened. Had they gone? All was still. It was quiet. Not a bird crying, not an insect humming, not even the wind rustling the leaves. All was calm. It was quiet…too quiet.

Where were they? A single footstep in the wrong direction could be his end. He felt eyes on him. It was as though he was being burned. There had only been one at first, they'd tried to draw him into an ambush, but he'd realised before it was too late and run in the opposite direction. His realisation hadn't come a moment too soon as cries had been heard a moment later.

He kept himself crouched, waiting for a sign of movement, a sign of where they were. He knew why they were after him, there was no mistaking that. To the right buyer he was worth a fortune, dead or alive. In demon cases, dead were better. Human meat was worth a pretty penny in the demon market, but demon meat, eaten by the rich and worth more than ten million human carcasses combined.

A snap to his left. A twig perhaps? He kept his eyes straight ahead, his senses broadened and at their height of awareness. He'd used this tactic before while trying to capture prey. Spook them into thinking the predator was elsewhere, have them run in the opposite direction, they'd be dead before they realised you'd feinted.

They were no amateurs, he could deduce that much, but he was also no rookie to this game. Hunters had been banned from entering the demon plains, as much as the gods detested demons, they knew that like cattle, demons were best kept alive. Whereas humans had rules regarding poachers, protect their prize birds and animals for the sake of greedily consuming their meat themselves, the gods kept demons alive as weapons.

Tournaments purged the weaker demons, as did drought and starvation. But for those who survived, they became stronger in the process, strong enough to reach the level and ranking to be contained by the barrier fencing off the divide, like animals they were contained in this world, only to be released in the direst of consequences.

He froze, an amateur mistake…could this also be a trap? The scent came from a singular direction. Fresh blood. He sniffed cautiously, human. A trap? Or perhaps a vine hanging low, ensnaring his pursuers flesh in thorny green. A click. His eyes moved and his head followed. The spell was broken as the game of patience ended. A shot pierced the silence, grazing a pale leg and sending birds screeching from the trees in fear for their lives. A yelp and he was off again, dashing through the open grasslands seeking shade or a safe haven to hide in.

More shots rang out, some narrowly missing as he weaved in many directions, each manoeuvre with the intent to confuse, rather than be predictable in his efforts to escape. His ploy working as he reached the end of the grasslands and sank into the depths of the forest. Trees would shelter him; protect him with their bark shield.

He would not be an easy target to attack, they had given chase for most of the day, and they could not keep this up for long. A cave, narrow but it would serve his purpose. His patience was second to none and he would wait out until another demon crossed their path and drove their attention away. Or he would live the remainder of his life trapped, but then, his powers would have returned and he would be the stronger.

Inside the cave, searching for a knot. There! He slid inside the small tunnel. It was dark, cramped, but the air was fresh. He would not be asphyxiated in here and he would be kept safe. They were smart, credit is where credit is due. The loss of a lover, agonised grief…rendered a demon as helpless as a newborn human baby. He was unable to take even the simplest of forms, trapped again inside a canine body.

He had always been popular, desired and craved. The human who wanted him, unusually, wanted him alive. Wanted a pet. Wanted to tame the wily demon. He knew the man well, of power and wealth unfathomable by human and demon standards alike. He was cruel, ruthless…everything desired and that he himself was. Used demons for pleasure, bargaining, and examples. How many had he slaughtered? There was a new group every month with him. Those who were so in awe they strived to appeal to his generous nature. Only one had succeeded…and now he was dead.

Scuffling…heat…oil…and carbon. He froze as he realised what they were doing. Human barbaric nature. Smoking him out. It would amuse him to no end if their primitive dealings killed him and left their Lord without his desire. Alas, his life was…unsatisfied. The fresh air meant ventilation. Stretching lazily he skimmed the corners of the cave, success as he found the crack leading to the cave next door. Fools hadn't covered all escape routes.

It was a struggle, with his bloody wounds it was even more so. With each tug he felt his skin tear, his essence spilling faster. There would be a lot of blood trailing him, but he could reach the stream beyond the hills and allow nature to carry him to safety, and flood his wound to push the blood back. Finally, freedom. He could take off again. He scurried out of the cave and began running once more. No sound followed him, no cries of annoyance…could it be he had deceived the fools? He reached the hill and looked back. Nothing. No one. The smoke rose from the caves he had fled. Victory!

He turned to stumble down to the creek, tired and exhausted. His wounds needed to be closed or he would bleed to death. "Got you!" He keened and took off at a run, bounding over natural debris, his movements sluggish as he was worn. He reached the edge of the stream, preparing to leap over the last fallen log before a shot rang out. Pain pierced his rib cage and he dropped, his body snapping in paralysis.

Surrounded by hunters. He had been over confident. They had tricked him. Deceived the King of Thieves, master of trickery, Lord of Seduction…and yet, though he knew it was over, he felt satisfaction. The shot had hit his spine, snapping the base. He felt no pain except the pain of embarrassment at being caught so easily.

They were over him, discussing what to do, as he lay motionless. He was tired, heavy and lame. Their Lord would be furious, his pet immobile. Their thoughts must have been along the same trail as a revolver cocked near his ear; the feeble twitch the last he would make. As the bullet pierced his heart and his blood began to rise up, as he slowly drowned on his own life force he smirked, his fangs bared. "Amateur." He gurgled, eyes rolling back inside his head.

**A/N I just decided that I was going to explore Kurama's last bit of life at the end. This isn't a one shot, though maybe it could be…but like I say. Kurama is a mystery to every and anyone and I want to explore him. His demon self, his human self. I can't promise to update this regularly but I would like to say that any reviews I get might convince me to write a bit faster!**

**It's been a while since I've written anything and I do plan to get around to my other stories. This is me saying…I'm baaaaaaaaaack!**

**Perhaps not the best story to actually come back on but oh well! Do I give a monkey? No! I don't even own a monkey!**


	2. Rebirth

Hikisaka

He felt cold but at the same time warm. He felt the bullet wound in his heart, it was sharp, agonisingly so…but strangely…bearable. His eyes were closed, nothing could convince them to open. He recognised this feeling, this despicable feeling that meant only one thing. He had been reduced to the weakness of a newborn kit.

After his youth he had decided it would never happen again, he would rather be dead than feel so pitiful again! Dependant. He listened hard. There were sounds, demons squabbling nearby…hunters celebrating their kill. He would have bared his teeth if his mouth felt able to move. Disgusting creatures, barbaric and cruel. Under normal circumstances he'd delight in it, participate even…he'd get his revenge. Even as weak as he was, their scent flooded his senses. He'd find them at a later date and make them wish they had never laid eyes on him.

A game. That's what it had been. A game that had gone so awry. It was his own error, he had not been up to the game. He could have stayed in hiding until he had been free. It was then he realised he was floating. A spirit perhaps? A creature not of death or of life. "Youko Kurama." He tensed as a monotonous voice spoke behind him.

"I am here to take you to be judged." The voice spoke. Female. Unsympathetic. Possibly the demon ferry girl Ayame. He had heard of this wench from the taverns. Lord Koenma was awaiting him. He turned his head, surprised that he was able. If the Death God was waiting for him, then he'd have to wait a little longer! He managed to twist himself into a ball of spiritual mass, a transformation in spirit form, how many apparitions could attest their abilities to this?

In this ball he found it easier to move. He was still weak as a newborn but he could move more freely. As he blindly pushed himself away from the ferry girl he realised that he was moving fast, the hunters' scents had already vanished from his nose. He could no longer hear their voices. A barrier stopped him. He didn't know where he was but the air was fresh, sweet…human world.

Lord Koenma would miss him. He had to hide. In his weakened form he would not be able to fight his way free. He would be condemned to hell, a place he longed to reach, his dearly beloved awaited him there, but his sense of preservation refused to allow him to accept it willingly. He was a fighter, a fox. One who had escaped from tighter situations. Who was he to be caged now?

The barrier seemed weaker to him. His frustrations had grown while he was in demon form but now… He pressed himself against the barrier, it was difficult, even as weak as he was he was still strong enough to be resisted. But no…he was no longer demon…he was spirit. With this thought the barrier seemed to crumble and let him through.

A small victory, but the barrier left him drained of energy. Spirits were not meant to cross plains without the aid of a ferry girl, he understood that now. His spirit was crumbling. He didn't have much time. He pressed forward, it seemed endless. The scent of humans was so close yet so far away.

It seemed an age before he finally reached the open air of the city. Blind as he was the sound, the smell, the feel…humans active as bees, working, moving…it was a hive. But he was far from them. There was a heat that was below him, human pollution…it was a barrier, but even so the air was that much richer than demon world.

"Youko Kurama…you shouldn't be here." A voice scolded, also female but brighter…warmer… "Come here. Let me help you before you do even more damage to your soul." The wind shifted around him and he felt a body next to him. "You're already fracturing." The woman spoke again, reaching out and touching him.

At the touch he moved away. "Youko Kurama." The woman was alarmed. If he had been capable, or in the right form, he would have backed up, hackles raised. He was being cornered and no fox was cornered! "Now calm yourself." The woman chirped, "I want to help you but I can't if you don't come with me."

"I wouldn't try and reason with him." The monotonous female spoke from behind him. "He is a demon."

At the sudden appearance of Ayame he started and sank down, the only way he knew. "Youko Kurama wait!" The warmer voice cried, obviously panicking as he sank down deep into the depths of the city. An argument was breaking out, a rather one sided if his hearing was accurate. But even that was beginning to fade. The woman was right. He was fracturing.

He had no aim, no idea where he was going…if only he could bond with a host…but everything around him was full of life, life would reject a foreign soul. The exception was of a woman, pregnant. He could feel her heartbeat, could feel the child…it was cold…dead…it would be stillborn or destroyed before it could be born.

That would be no good. A sharp pain filled him as more energy tore from him. He had minutes left, he had left the sanctity of hell and would dissolve into nothingness if he didn't hurry. Despite the pain he moved forwards, slowly, sluggishly. Had the ferry girls abandoned him as a lost cause? It wouldn't surprise him, heavenly bodies and the like thought they were so much better than demons!

A flicker of life caught his waning attention. It was almost as though it was beckoning to him. Another woman, pregnant. A baby in it's first trimester. A soul attempting to attach. He struggled towards it and hovered over the woman's head. A baby was easy to push aside but something stopped him. It was determined…

He used the last bit of his strength to push forwards, pushing the soul and his own into the baby, it had life but even if it rejected him he would have an energy boost, steal some of the babes life and resume his search for a suitable host.

It was strange. As soon as they both swam inside the baby the other soul reached out and entangled itself in his own broken soul. It was disconcerting but at this point he had power to resist. Was this really the fate of Youko Kurama? To be consumed by a human soul?

Instead of the sharpness he expected to feel…he began to feel warm. The pain subsiding. He felt the human shift into him as he shifted into the human. It appeared both souls had merged inside this life form…their thoughts and feelings intermingled. He was weak, but he felt strong. Warmth and the feeling of safety flooded him.

His power was diminished. The urge to rest overflowed as the vessel relaxed, filled with two souls slowly becoming one. The other had been cleansed of memories from previous lives, it was empty…infantile…he would remain dormant, his soul and power was meshing with the child, it wouldn't be completely helpless, it would be powerful…given time. And when the time was done, he would come forth, return to his former glory…but for now…it was time to rest, gather his strength.

The body seemed to read his mind as at that moment he felt it give a hard kick to the mother. A firm pressure was placed over it, the mother doubtlessly in pain. He would be free of the prison, which he had had no choice but to flee, and then he would get his revenge! With that he settled and drifted into a state of hibernation, waiting until that moment when he would breathe air once more.

**deaddog1991** - Lol good job I'm writing a fiction then and not a non-fiction, and you say no human can tame an A class demon, but Kurama was either getting close or at an A class when Shiori taught him about love. Thanks for the review though, it's always helpful to have constructive criticism...although I would ask you don't say; "you _even_ got the basics wrong.". It makes me feel pretty crappy lol!

**sn0zb0z **- I do want a monkey...you've found my christmas present! *huggles* thank you!

**Sora Sotara** - Aww thank you! You're right. Re-birth always ends on a positive note lol! And don't worry, it's been a while since I watched YYH but I had a dream that included part of this and I thought, I wonder if I could make it more...thus this fiction was born! A lot of birthing at the moment! Thanks for the review!


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